


Rescue

by artemystery



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Jailbreak!, Light Angst, M/M, Second Chances, Spoilers for Ep. 97 and 98
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:02:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23102920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemystery/pseuds/artemystery
Summary: Caleb sits across from Essek, looking in from outside the bars. They are both silent for a moment that stretches, stretches until- “I, ah, suppose this wasn’t part of the plan either?”“It seems I’ve vastly overestimated my planning abilities.”---Essek is betrayed, made a scapegoat, and waiting for sentencing behind bars. Caleb has other plans.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 6
Kudos: 285





	Rescue

Caleb sits across from Essek, looking in from outside the bars. They are both silent for a moment that stretches, stretches until- “I, ah, suppose this wasn’t part of the plan either?”

Essek doesn’t quite raise his head but gives a chuckle that’s mostly a sigh and entirely humorless and altogether too stained with defeat. The sight of manacles around his wrists is becoming too familiar.

“It seems I’ve vastly overestimated my planning abilities.”

Now it’s Caleb’s turn to grimace.

“I don’t suppose you have anything to bargain with? Information for us or the Bright Queen that could, ah, lighten the sentence?”

Even Caleb has to admit that it sounds hopeless. For all that they had anticipated the peace talks going sideways, they’d been completely blindsided by the Assembly’s manœuvre bringing in the Cobalt Soul. Beau had been livid at the double cross - _triple-cross prelude to a double coup revolution conspiracy_ , Jester and Veth insist - and he knows that her next meeting with Dairon will not end amiably. Now Essek is perfectly positioned to take the fall. He looks so small inside the cell. So tired.

Caleb likes to think that he might have puzzled out the plot earlier given enough time to think, but the surprise attack with Uk’otoa and the following ordeal with Fjord had been weighing on everyone’s mind for the last week at sea. For good reason. None of them sleep alone anymore. Silver thread strewn around like a web of paranoia. Leomund’s tiny hut right against the only door. Weapons and armor within arms reach at all times.

Still, he thinks, they should have remembered to check in with their friend. Essek looks up at him now. His posture is the same but his expression is asking Caleb why he’s still here. Why _is_ he here? Caleb sighs and runs a hand back through his hair. It’s coming loose again. He chances a glance back at the door, listening. The guards will be back soon, after realizing whatever distraction Jester came up with isn’t worth their time, and then he will be forced to take drastic measures. Nothing he hasn’t prepared for, but he thinks there is a better way.

He pulls it out of his bag, fingers running along it’s raised edges. He can see Essek peering warily, curiously through the bars.

Maybe foolhardy would be a more fitting description for this plan, but he is sure it’s their best option right now.

Especially considering that Essek hasn’t moved. The antimagic field ripples in a transparent, shimmering haze around him, and Caleb can feel the smothering spell like a muzzle over his magic. _Familiar_ , whispers something in the darkest crevasses of his memory. He shudders. Eyeing the slump of Essek’s shoulders, heavy with shame and all-too-recognizable guilt, Caleb doubts he would even accept their offer to aid in his escape. Which is, of course, what he is offering. But he is not asking.

“This might be a bit winding,” he warns.

And before Essek can ask what he means, deft fingers are twisting and pulling at metallic ridges with a calculated, practiced efficiency. There is a feeling like all the air has been sucked from his lungs, like his body is being stretched to infinity and compressed to nothing all at once-

And then they are standing within a familiar stone chamber, a different colored banner adorning each of the four walls.

“What-“ Essek gasps, staggering to his feet, “What have you _done_?”

“You may recall we mentioned to you once - briefly - an object we refer to as the ‘Happy Fun Ball’, _ja_?” Caleb dusts off his coat and makes for the red banner, motioning for Essek to follow.

“You have taken an _international prisoner of war_ from maximum security-“

“The security was not that good.”

“-committing treason against _two_ countries, one of which you are from-“

“As Beauregard likes to say, it was only a matter of time anyway.”

“You have needlessly, _recklessly_ endangered your own lives,” Essek snarls and Caleb turns to see that Essek’s pale eyes are alight with fury. “I told you, I told _all of you_ , that I could not protect both myself and the rest of you if everything came crashing down, and now it has. And I made my choice!” And - _oh_ \- he is crying now, but he can’t bring himself to stop. “I made my choice and I surrendered. To them. I made my peace with the end of this path-“

“No.” Caleb interrupts, jaw set and blue eyes hard. “You made peace with _nothing_ ,” he hisses. “You gave up. This,” and he grabs Essek’s manacled wrists, wrenching them up to his face. “ _This_ , is not what redemption looks like, Essek. This is punishment. It is _just_ and _easy_ and it is not what we hoped for you.”

“But it is what I deserve.”

“Perhaps it is.” Caleb steps into his space, then. And his voice softens, sharpens, as if he is speaking to himself. “Perhaps it is what _you_ deserve. But the world deserves better.”

And, well, how can Essek formulate an argument against that when he has always been too selfish to think of what the world deserves?

Caleb takes his silence with a nod, and leads them through the door beneath the red banner. There is that feeling again of being pulled in a thousand directions, but it is over in an instant and suddenly they are standing in a large chamber filled with empty bookshelves, cabinets, and desks.

Caleb makes his way towards one of the chairs, but Essek lingers in the space, eyes casting around and landing on the massive portrait of a dark-skinned human man in red robes.

“Ah, that is Halas, the creator of this place,” Caleb gestures around vaguely. “As I was saying before, the ‘Happy Fun Ball’ is known to some as the Folding Halls of Halas, the Heirloom Sphere, and - in arcane circles - the Archmage’s Bane.”

Essek blanches and has to take a moment to collect himself. “The _Archmage’s Bane_ ,” he sputters, “we are in- you have- _how did_ -”

“It is a long story, and one I am sure Jester and Nott- _Veth_ will be happy to fill in for you later, but for now I will say that we have been entrusting it to a, ah, powerful associate of ours in Nicodranas for safekeeping.” Caleb casts a mournful look at the empty bookshelves surrounding them. “And studying. Though we were able to take it out with us again for this mission.”

“This mission.” Essek’s expression grows shadowed once more. “You have successfully removed me from my holding cell, but you will not be able to keep me hidden for long.” He paces back and forth along the length of the study, “the Cerberus Assembly took extensive measures to ensure my downfall. They are _counting_ on it. They will have anticipated and prepared for attempts to escape. You already saw the caliber of the cell they prepared for me.” He is, of course, referring to the advanced antimagic enchantment. What he doesn’t know is that it pales in comparison to the Prison of Soot. Perhaps another time.

“Well,” Caleb shrugs, “they did not anticipate you having friends with an artifact from the Age of Arcanum.” He tosses Essek a smile, then, and Essek nearly trips while pacing. “I would wager that there is not a single body in Wildemount that can anticipate or prepare for the Mighty Nein.”

At that, even Essek can’t resist a smirk. “You may be right about that.” He finally takes a seat, settling in the armchair next to Caleb’s. A moment passes, then another.

“So... where is the rest of your group? And how long must we wait here?”

“ _Our_ group,” Caleb corrects gently, “and I would say no more than one hour. Time passes more quickly outside the Sphere than inside. We have worked out the rate to be approximately one day outside per hour inside.”

Essek raises an eyebrow at that. Ever the curious Graviturgist, Caleb notes. He shrugs before Essek can ask him about the arcane mechanics. "Your theories are probably far closer than mine."

Essek nods, hums, stores the information away for future inquiry. “So the others are all waiting outside?”

“Oh, yes,” Caleb nods, “Veth was waiting nearby - invisible - when I activated the Happy Fun Ball. The plan was for her to retrieve it and then sneak back out to the rest of the group once we were inside.” He huffs worriedly, “she would have lost the invisibility once she got closer to the cell, I hope she was able to get out without issue.”

Essek blinks. “Should we not try to get outside as soon as possible, then, in case they need help?”

Caleb shook his head. “Much as I would like to, it would be troublesome to pop out early. We agreed beforehand to give it a day so there is enough time for them to be clear of the Assembly. Jester will send me a message if anything has changed.”

They sit in silence for another handful of moments before Caleb shifts in his seat and motions towards Essek’s manacled hands.

“Would- ah, would you like me to take those off of you?”

Essek says nothing, only holds up his hands in response. Caleb focuses for a moment, then flicks his hand as a loud clanging sound rings out from the manacles. A moment later they snap open, clattering unceremoniously to the floor. Essek takes the opportunity to rub at the chafed skin of his wrists, avoiding the concerned gaze of the red-haired wizard.

“Thank you,” he clears his throat.

Caleb shakes his head, mumbling something like “should have done that earlier.”

There is silence again after that, but Essek can see Caleb fidgeting out of the corner of his eye and he can only take it for so long before he asks, “what is it?”

Caleb has the decency to not bother looking surprised. It does still take him a moment to answer, though.

“I have- I would like to- to hear you confirm that you will not attempt to turn yourself in again once we exit this plane.”

“After all the trouble you went to to break me out?” Essek attempts, feebly, at levity. Caleb does not smile, and he sighs. Pauses. “If you… insist. On keeping me out of the grasp of the Dynasty’s retribution… I will not resist.” He drops his gaze to the floor and huffs something almost like a laugh. “The time when I could resist you has long since passed.”

Long, callused fingers tilt his gaze back up to the human before him, and Essek is abruptly reminded of the feeling of warm lips on his forehead. When had Caleb moved so close? His blue eyes are intense and boring holes into him, his mouth is set in a frown.

“Essek,” he says, and Essek hates how _precious_ it sounds when he says it. Hates how it digs another anchor into his chest and feeds the treacherous hope that festers there. The guilt too.

“You are not a hostage to our kindness.” Caleb’s voice is hard, but not cruel. “We hope for you to find a path to betterment. Even if redemption is out of reach, we hope for you to try, to mend our broken trust, because we care for you. But more than anything,” he leans in, forcing home the point and Essek can’t look away, “we hope for you to want this as much as we do. We hope for you to want this for _yourself_.”

Essek shudders, thinks of all the things he used to want for himself and feels again the tide of regret that crept higher and higher since the Nein entered his life. Looks at the expression on Caleb’s face and thinks of all the things he wants now.

A second chance.

The spot on his forehead burns, and it is suddenly difficult to breathe. He nods, eyes never leaving Caleb’s.

“This is what I want,” he whispers.

And Caleb’s smile is positively radiant. He can even feel the corners of his own mouth starting to twitch up.

“Then, we will leave it better together, _ja_?"

“Together,” Essek affirms. And perhaps he is vastly overstepping his boundaries, but he needs to do this before the guilt and nerves catch up with him or he thinks he never will. He rocks gently forward, stretches upwards, and presses a feather-light kiss to Caleb’s forehead. The stunned expression he is rewarded with is enough to push his expression into a smile.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice soft. “For the rescue.”

**Author's Note:**

> And they spend the rest of the hour playing with Frumpkin, after Caleb convinces Essek that exploring the other rooms would be a decidedly terrible idea.


End file.
